After starting the day with a prayer and a safety demonstration, a group of volunteers gears up in water-resistant clothing and lifejackets, ready to hit the water.

The crew is preparing to scour a stretch of the Fraser and Thompson rivers, removing any fishing gear or waste left behind. Fishing nets left underneath the water are commonly known as ghost nets, which trap and kill fish. 

As the saying goes on a volunteer call out poster, “ghost nets create ghost fish.”

TLKemchEEN (Lytton First Nation) has led the river clean-up program in the area for the past 20 years, all in an effort to preserve salmon populations and aquatic life following harvest season.

Over two days in September, a group of 40 volunteers spent a total of 20 combined hours on the water.

From Lillooet to Lytton during the first day, and from Lytton to Yale during the second day, volunteers passed through white-water rapids and rugged terrain such as the famously turbulent passage of Hell’s Gate.

When the raft leader yells “hold on,” that’s exactly what participants do, reaching down for a rope attached to the raft, laughing and hollering, ripping through the Fraser Canyon rapids. 

The cold river water splashes everyone — waking up the crew as countless bald and golden eagles watch from above.

“I didn’t realize how impactful everything is along the shores. I guess I didn’t realize that some leave their garbage and nets out there,” volunteer Rebecca Riley, who is from the Stʼatʼimc Nation, said.

“Once I saw that with my own eyes, I wanted to jump in and be a part of it.”

It’s a sentiment shared by many volunteers on the boat, who eagerly approach the shoreline when a ghost net comes into sight. 

Whether the net will take one person to remove, or up to five to pull out of the water, is unknown until people get their hands wet. 

During the non-rapid portion of the cleanup, countless stories were told, Indigenous people exchanged words in their languages to compare similarities and differences and folks even had hot chocolate along the shore, courtesy of Kumsheen Rafting, which was contracted to support the program this year. 

During the first year of the program, 126 ghost nets were collected.

“This year we picked up six nets and some garbage, some years prior we’ve picked up zero. We have to remind our fishermen not to be lazy and take their gear home,” Kevin Duncan told the Narwhal.

Duncan is an elected councillor for TLKemchEEN in B.C.’s Southern Interior, part of the Nlaka’pamux Nation Tribal Council. He has been involved with the program since its inception. He attended both cleanup days this year with his son Aaron.

For TLKemchEEN, stewarding their waters as they always have is crucial — especially as salmon numbers decline. Life along the Fraser and Thompson rivers is deeply connected to salmon. And TLKemchEEn is home to where the two rivers meet, in the country’s largest salmon-bearing watershed.

“For future generations, sometime down the road, I’m afraid all they’re going to be looking at is pictures of salmon in a book,” said Duncan. 

The nets recovered by the program are given to those in need, including single mothers, low-income families and Elders from the nation. 

“As a Nlaka’pamux or Stʼatʼimc member … that fishery is a communal right, it’s not an individual right. It’s looked after by your nation,” Duncan said.

“Most times, you just get to see portions of the river from the highway, but once you’re down on the water, floating for eight hours from Lillooet to Lytton, it gives you a better perspective on where people fish.” 

Removing fishing gear from the cold and fast-moving river can be dangerous, which is why Duncan starts each day of the program with a yémit, or prayer in Nlaka’pamxcín. 

“Salmon are the lifeblood of our people, and when these fish pass through coastal communities, they pray for them in the lower Fraser. We’re doing the same thing as they pass through our territories in the mid Fraser. … These fish hear that prayer.”

Nations collaborate to steward salmon

Volunteer Riley is Lillooet Tribal Council’s fisheries manager. She has participated in the river cleanup program three times, beginning in 2018 when she saw an advertisement in the newspaper. 

Although she’s been on the Fraser and Thompson rivers many times throughout her fisheries career, she said that the ghost net removal program was “eye opening,” regarding the number of fishers out on the water.

She said that Lillooet Tribal Council is happy to help as the neighbouring nation to Nlaka’pamux territory, given the large area to cover and the shared value of protecting salmon.

“When we’re having the long days and we’re getting splashed and it’s cold, if we save a salmon or two that are still alive and let them free, or we clear out a net so we know that other animals can’t go in, it’s very gratifying and humbling,” she said. 

“At the end of the day, when you’re riding the bus home and you’re cold and hungry, you know in the back of your mind it was so worth it.”

While the focus of the program is cleaning up the river, volunteers take the opportunity to support other initiatives while on the water, such as mapping traditional fishing sites to prove occupancy. 

According to Conservation Biology, “Proof of occupancy is the foundational legal and moral requirement needed to establish Aboriginal Title, regain territorial sovereignty and protect ancestral lands from unauthorized exploitation.”

Lillooet Tribal Council’s extreme heat resiliency planner, Lyza Adolph, did a lot of heavy lifting over the two days removing ghost nets, but also had a mission of her own. 

A member of the Stʼatʼimc Nation, this was her first time participating in the ghost net removal program.

“It was very cold, but with the group that we had, it was very enjoyable and uplifting,” she said.

With a focus on planning for extreme heat in her position at the tribal council, Adolph monitored fishing sites during the program to see if there were any shade trees nearby, scoping out areas to potentially plant some. 

“The program tied in with my traditional shade tree planting. I know more about the upper river, but from Lillooet to Lytton and beyond, I didn’t know too much about it. It was definitely nice to see the various fish camps and see if there were shade trees,” she told The Narwhal.

Shade trees are beneficial for both humans and aquatic life.

As spawning salmon break down, their nutrients feed the trees. In turn, trees offer shade to cool the water, which is critical for survival on a warming planet, and tree roots and branches give salmonids space to hide from predators while also preventing erosion.

In the Fraser Canyon, which includes the communities of Yale, Lytton and Lillooet, fishing sites can be hard to access. Adolph’s shade tree monitoring data, collected by boat, will be used in future tree planting projects. 

“I would definitely do it again,” Adolph said. “Although it was very cold, it was very refreshing and rewarding by the end of the day.”

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From the surface, a strip of water contained by docks at the southeastern edge of the Hamilton Harbour appears much like any other in the industrial centre, once known as “Steeltown.” Cargo ships bound for the Great Lakes and St. Lawrence Seaway line the boat slip’s western edge. On the eastern side are piles of black slag — the hard, clumpy by-product of steel processing.

But beneath the water lies a legacy of pollution, one which The Narwhal has learned is a decade behind in being cleaned up, in part due to the economic fallout of U.S. tariffs on the steel industry.

The sediment in the Kenilworth Avenue boat slip is contaminated with chemicals, including polychlorinated biphenyls, or PCBs, and heavy metals that are toxic to fish and other aquatic organisms; exposure can cause reproductive problems, reduced growth and developmental effects.

The steel-maker Dofasco, which has operated on the shore since 1912 and was purchased by Luxembourg-based ArcelorMittal in 2006, owns the boat slip and has publicly pledged to contain the contaminated sediment. Decades of industrial activity contributed to the contamination: a 1999 scientific report published by Environment Canada’s Water Science and Technology Directorate identified runoff from the steel-maker’s coal piles as one source of metals and other toxins entering the water, along with industrial cooling water, stormwater and sewer overflows from various sources. 

According to a 2015 project description the company submitted to the federal environmental assessment office, some concentrations of chemicals found in the area were high enough to be considered hazardous waste under federal criteria. That means the waste would have to be transferred off-site to a landfill or contained within an engineered cap.

ArcelorMittal Dofasco proposed covering one contaminated area with such a cap. A separate containment structure along the eastern edge of the boat slip would lock in additional contamination, including some dredged up and pumped in from other areas.

Work was scheduled to begin in August 2016 and, aside from long-term monitoring, finish by June 2017. But more than nine years after that deadline, the cleanup remains unfinished, with no containment structures in place. According to company records reviewed by The Narwhal, as of 2025 the anticipated cleanup cost was US$28 million. By May 2026, a company statement given to a group coordinating efforts to restore Hamilton Harbour, and shared with The Narwhal, showed progress had stalled due to the economic pressure U.S. tariffs have put on Canada’s steel industry. 

ArcelorMittal Dofasco did not respond to detailed questions or multiple requests for comment by publication time.

The Narwhal reviewed annual reports, meeting notes and project updates going back to 1999. The documents lay out early efforts — and then years of delays — in removing the contaminated sediment and working toward the broader project of cleaning up Hamilton Harbour.

A former senior executive at the steel-maker, who requested their identity be kept confidential for fear of retribution, said the remediation was taken seriously while they worked there, before retiring in the past decade. “We had hired people to do the engineering work. We had put money aside in a special account, so everything was being set up,” they told The Narwhal, adding approximately $5 million had been allocated for the project at the time. (The company’s 2018 financial report notes it expected to spend US$5 million on the cleanup the following year.)

A note on trust, integrity and unnamed sources+

This story uses information from sources The Narwhal has agreed not to name. The Narwhal only agrees to keep names confidential when we believe two things. First, that the person we’re speaking with is putting themselves at genuine risk, either personal or professional, by sharing this information with us. Second, that the information they’re sharing is in the public interest. Our decision to do so is never made lightly. 

There are two types of unnamed sources. A confidential source is someone whose name we know, but aren’t sharing. We make multiple attempts to verify their identity and information with other sources. If we aren’t able to get a second source, we say so. 

An anonymous source is someone whose name we don’t know. It is incredibly rare for The Narwhal to publish a story with a completely anonymous source. In these instances, we don’t publish until we have verified the information shared with us with at least one other source. 

And again, these stories must be in the public interest. 

As Canadian governments become increasingly secretive, the courage of whistleblowers is to be admired. We value them greatly. At the same time, our promise to readers is The Narwhal will always make sure the facts are airtight. 

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Although the original 2017 deadline passed, the former executive said the project continued advancing internally. Upon retirement, they believed it was close to moving into construction.

“It was just a matter of hiring a general contractor to do the work.”

But records show that work is far from done.

A history of contamination and efforts to clean up Hamilton Harbour

Kristin O’Connor, who coordinates efforts to remediate Hamilton Harbour at Conservation Halton, says the waterway’s transformation began as Hamilton expanded during the 1800s and 1900s.

“It was consciously decided that the Hamilton Harbour would be the dumping ground for industry and for sewage,” O’Connor said of her belief about how the contamination problem began across the harbour.

Over time, natural shorelines were filled in, wetlands disappeared and large sections of the waterfront were converted into industrial lands. The result was decades of deteriorating water quality, algae blooms, contaminated sediment and damage to fish and wildlife habitat. O’Connor points out a visiting urban planner described the harbour as the world’s largest and most beautiful septic tank in 1958.

In 1972, seeing a number of similarly degraded shorelines around the Great Lakes, Canada and the United States agreed to work together to clean up some of the most deeply polluted sites. The two countries signed the Great Lakes Water Quality Agreement in 1987, which listed 43 official areas of concern, where industrial pollution was the most deleterious. Hamilton Harbour was one of them.

The harbour ultimately had 11 of 14 possible categories of environmental impairment identified through the Great Lakes restoration framework. Among them were restrictions on eating fish and the degradation of benthos — small organisms that live in or on sediment at the bottom of waterways. Those two concerns are particularly relevant to the Kenilworth boat slip.

How did ArcelorMittal Dofasco’s boat slip become contaminated?

The contamination in the Kenilworth Avenue boat slip didn’t come from a single incident. For generations, Hamilton Harbour, extending off of Lake Ontario, was shaped by steel-making, shipping, urban development and the discharge of industrial waste and sewage.

The 1999 scientific report examined contaminant levels in 1996 and found run-off from Dofasco’s coal piles was heavily contaminated with metals and polycyclic aromatic hydrocarbons, or PAHs. The group of chemicals is associated with sources including petroleum products, steel-making and coking operations — the process of heating coal at high temperatures to produce fuel for steel-making. Some are considered to be cancer-causing and toxic for aquatic life. After the study came out, Dofasco contracted work to capture and treat run-off from its coal piles.

Also found within the sediment, PCBs, once widely used in industrial equipment, can remain in the environment for long periods and accumulate in animal tissue. Environment and Climate Change Canada identifies the human-made chemicals as potential human carcinogens that are toxic to fish at low levels. The United Nations Environment Programme has reported they accumulate in the tissues of plants and animals, becoming more concentrated and harmful as they move up the food chain.

Dofasco acknowledged the sediment problem in its 2002 annual report, saying, “The company’s boat slip contains contaminated sediment from a time that pre-dates environmental awareness and control technologies.”

At the time, the company said it was working with the federal and provincial environment departments and other stakeholders to examine options for addressing the contamination. Neither Environment and Climate Change Canada nor Ontario’s Ministry of the Environment, Conservation and Parks responded to requests for comment by publication time.

ArcelorMittal Dofasco’s 2015 project description acknowledged the pollution could negatively affect local aquatic organisms and noted the cleanup was intended to prevent them and other wildlife from coming into contact with the most heavily contaminated material.

The Canada Water Agency, the federal agency responsible for freshwater governance, said in a statement to The Narwhal that cleaning up the Kenilworth boat slip, along with a nearby contaminated site known as the Strathearne boat slip, remains necessary to reduce contamination from PCBs, PAHs and metals.

Enter the Hamilton Harbour Remedial Action Plan

After Hamilton Harbour was designated an area of concern, restoration efforts kicked off, starting with the development of a remedial action plan to address decades of environmental damage.

The Hamilton Harbour remedial action plan brings together governments, industry, conservation authorities, researchers and community organizations to restore the harbour. Dofasco and Stelco, Hamilton’s two major steel producers, have been involved in the process since its early years. O’Connor, the remedial action plan coordinator with Halton Conservation, says the Kenilworth boat slip was one of many environmental problems contributing to the harbour’s designation as an area of concern.

Over the decades, the partnership has worked on projects ranging from wastewater treatment improvements to shoreline restoration and fish habitat rehabilitation. One of its largest undertakings — and one that looks to be a model for success — is the cleanup of Randle Reef.

Located near the property of Stelco, Randle Reef was the largest contaminated sediment site on the Canadian side of the Great Lakes. A $138.9-million cleanup began in 2015, funded by the federal and provincial governments, municipalities, the port authority and industry. While Stelco was not deemed solely responsible for the pollution at Randle Reef, it supplied $14 million in steel to build a box to contain it. The sediment there was contaminated with the same toxins found at Kenilworth, and had to be dredged and moved into the steel container. The final phase, which involves installing a cap over the box, is scheduled for completion in 2027.

Kenilworth, however, has followed a different path.

ArcelorMittal Dofasco’s 2015 remediation plan outlines how it would contain the most contaminated sediment in the two proposed structures: one approximately 66 metres wide and 120 metres long and the other roughly 264 metres long and 44 metres wide. Less than 40,000 cubic metres of contaminated sediment was expected to be dredged from other areas of the boat slip and relocated into the containment structures.

Sediment containing naphthalene — the most volatile member of the PAH family — would be tested and, where required, transported to a licensed landfill for hazardous waste disposal. Other areas would be covered with sand to isolate contamination remaining after dredging. A temporary water treatment system would manage wastewater generated during the work, while long-term monitoring would assess the integrity of the containment structures. The approach was designed to minimize disruption to shipping operations while reducing exposure to contaminated sediment.

Unlike the multi-partner Randle Reef project, ArcelorMittal Dofasco was identified as the “sole proponent” for its boat slip remediation. O’Connor says the remedial action plan identifies the environmental work that needs to be completed, but individual partners are responsible for carrying out their own projects. “We don’t fund it. We don’t monitor it,” she said.

In its 2023 annual report, ArcelorMittal Dofasco listed a US$31-million environmental provision for the expected cost of remediating toxic sediment at the Kenilworth boat slip. The company’s 2025 annual report included a US$28-million provision for the project. These provisions are accounting estimates of expected environmental costs, not proof that money has been spent on remediation or that those amounts are held in a dedicated account.

The remediation timeline starts slipping

In 2020, the International Joint Commission, a Canada-U.S. organization that investigates and mediates transboundary issues involving fresh water, reported that ArcelorMittal Dofasco was expected to clean up contaminated sediment near the Kenilworth boat slip over two years beginning in 2021.

A Hamilton Harbour remedial action plan fact sheet originally published in 2018 and updated in 2023 continued to describe ArcelorMittal Dofasco as obtaining provincial approval to manage PCB, PAH and metal-contaminated sediment in the boat slip. Meanwhile, meeting records from the Bay Area Implementation Team, the group of partners responsible for implementing the remedial action plan, show the project remained under development.

At a June 13, 2023, meeting, ArcelorMittal Dofasco reported conducting additional sediment sampling and working with an engineering consultant to review the results. The company was preparing an updated environmental summary report as part of the permitting process and reviewing the engineering design.

A year later, the project still had not moved into construction. Meeting notes from June 20, 2024, state a tender was being prepared for proponents to bid on the remediation work. The notes state that technical options and logistics were being reviewed as well as further consultations with the Indigenous community.

By November 2025, the project timeline was still being reviewed, according to notes, but ArcelorMittal Dofasco remained committed to the cleanup.

The most recent update provided to the Bay Area Implementation Team came from ArcelorMittal Dofasco on May 29, 2026: “The current market context and threat to the Canadian steel industry as a result of the U.S. tariffs creates a very difficult environment for the company and the industry. So much so that every investment must be carefully reviewed and managed in order to continue to be a sustainable business. Given this, there is no further update or progress since the last meeting.”  

The statement comes amid substantial uncertainty facing Canadian steel producers.

U.S. President Donald Trump imposed 25 per cent tariffs on Canadian steel and aluminum in March 2025, before doubling them to 50 per cent that June and escalating further with additional trade pressures through 2026. In steel-making communities, including Hamilton, workers have faced job losses as a result. That includes at Stelco, which has laid off hundreds of workers in the past weeks.

But that doesn’t account for the past decade of delays on remediating the Kenilworth boat slip.

Chris McLaughlin, executive director of the Bay Area Restoration Council, said the precise circumstances behind the years of delays remain unclear. He called for greater leadership from the federal and provincial government in addressing the project’s technical and economic obstacles, and said the public deserves clearer commitments and timelines from the company for completing the work.

“There is a moral imperative to reconcile with our destructive industrial past,” he said. “Effective cleanups and restorative actions with public engagement and community connections create meaningful improvements and sustain hope.”

Rajpreet Sahota is a community and policy reporting fellow. Her position is funded in part by the Canadian Race Relations Foundation. As per The Narwhal’s editorial independence policy, the foundation has no editorial input.

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Alberta has introduced new rules that will allow landowners to destroy broad categories of wetlands across the province without seeking government approval. It’s a move the province calls common sense and critics call worrying. 

“What I’m seeing is what I like to refer to as policy-based evidence making,” said Tracy Scott, who recently retired from his role as head of industry and government relations with Ducks Unlimited Canada, a wetland conservation organization.

The changes to the province’s Water Act will allow farmers to remove what are known as temporary and seasonal wetlands on private land to improve crop efficiency. Temporary wetlands are covered by water for a few weeks in spring or after a heavy rainfall, according to the government — they can be dips in the landscape where water naturally pools. Seasonal wetlands hold water for most of the growing season but dry out by the fall.

Previously, landowners had to pay for a detailed assessment of the impacts of such moves, and pay for wetland replacement costs. 

“Farmers should not have to spend thousands of dollars and wait on government approval to carry out routine work on their own land,” Grant Hunter, the minister of environment and protected areas, said in a news release. “We are restoring private property rights and getting government out of the way where it doesn’t need to be.”

That sort of language irks Kennedy Halvorson, a conservation specialist at the Alberta Wilderness Association.

“It’s a bit of deceptive messaging, kind of depicting these wetlands as if they have no value, they’re just a hindrance for our producers,” she said. 

“The reality is that these wetlands have a lot of ecological value. They’re basically the only other sort of water bodies that exist other than the rivers.”

Halvorson said there is plenty of scientific research to show wetlands help retain water in dry years, help prevent flooding, filter things like pesticides and herbicides, recharge groundwater and provide habitat. 

She says the changes put the vast majority of the remaining prairie wetlands at risk — approximately 94 per cent.

Wetland ‘benefits accrue to society’

Wetlands are among the most diverse ecosystems on the planet. They’re home to countless species of birds, bugs and animals. But rapid human development, including agriculture, has ravaged many wetlands.

Globally, experts estimate more than half the world’s wetlands are gone. In Canada, approximately 70 per cent of historic wetlands have been degraded or dried up. Three-quarters of what are known as prairie pothole wetlands have been lost to agricultural developments and some areas have lost 90 per cent of their wetland cover.

Alberta’s changes apply to a broad swath of wetlands classified as “non-permanent.”

“Whether wetlands are large or small, temporary or permanent, they all make a positive difference,” reads Alberta’s landowner guide to wetland policy. 

And they can be a nuisance for farmers trying to operate large machinery and increase crop yields.

“The changes will make it easier for farmers to cultivate, seed, spray, ditch, drain and infill on their own cropland without going through an unnecessary approval process,” the government said in a press release.

These types of wetlands cause “production inefficiencies,” Sarah Weigum, the chair of Alberta British Columbia Seed Growers Association, said in the government’s press release announcing the changes. “By managing these short-lived wet areas and reducing their impacts earlier in the season, it allows farmers to have greater efficiency in the field.” 

Scott, a farmer himself near Camrose, Alta., says working around wetlands is “not fun,” and he can understand some of the frustration for landowners. 

“The challenge here is that the benefits accrue to society, by and large,” he says. “The landowners bear the cost.”

Wetlands do provide agricultural benefits, too: they provide habitat for pollinators, nutrients for crops, pest control and contaminant filtering. They store carbon and help manage water flow during droughts and floods. Healthy wetlands absorb phosphorus and nitrogen, helping manage explosions of algal blooms.

In the past, provincial governments relied heavily on research and consultation to develop policy to protect wetlands, something Scott said this government has turned away from. 

“We do have a policy that I was heavily involved in, in 2013, that involved extensive consultation as well as review of the available science, of which there is a lot,” Scott said. 

“This change is, in my opinion, based on political favour.”

The office of the minister of Environment and Protected Areas and the office of the minister of Agriculture and Irrigation did not respond to questions from The Narwhal by publication time.

Halvorson said another element of the changes may mean wetlands that were established as part of the province’s wetland replacement program, which forced landowners or companies who wanted to destroy a wetland to pay to construct a new wetland in another location, could also now be destroyed without penalty.

“How do we ensure that those wetlands that have been funded to be restored or replaced aren’t now just also at risk of being lost or degraded?” she wonders. 

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Summary

• Temperatures in Vancouver could climb as high as 29 C this weekend, the first heat wave of the year.
• Water restrictions are in effect, only three of the city’s five outdoor pools are open and outdoor water sampling at many popular beaches has been suspended due to strikes.
• This summer is projected to be one of the hottest on record, raising questions about the readiness of Vancouver to protect its citizens from extreme heat.

This weekend, Vancouverites will swelter under the first heat wave of the year, with a sunny forecast of up to 29 C on Saturday and Sunday. (Listen up, the rest of Canada: it’s not a dry heat!) It’s ideal weather for swimming outdoors or taking your kids to a wading pool — or it would be, if that were an option.

Only three of the city’s five outdoor pools — Second Beach, Hillcrest and New Brighton — will be open. The city’s 11 wading pools, meanwhile, are suspended all summer due to Stage 3 water restrictions across the city, which are expected to last until October. Perhaps you think this is no big deal — after all, the Pacific is right there. But those looking to cool down in the ocean will be taking their chances, as water quality tests at many of the city’s most popular beaches have been suspended due to job action, and those that have been tested lately are showing higher-than-expected E. coli counts. 

It’s a bleak start to the summer, which is expected to be one of the hottest on record, according to Environment Canada.

Complaints about Vancouver’s lack of outdoor pools aren’t new: a decade ago, the Vancouver Sun pointed out the city has fewer pools than any other major city in Canada. (On their city websites, Montreal lists 62; Toronto has 58.) We’re on par with Saskatoon — which operates far more wading pools and splash pads, despite being a much smaller city. But most people frame this as a recreation problem, not a public health issue. 

A recent study in the Journal of Environmental Economics and Management found in New York City, more people visit outdoor pools on hot days. No surprise. But the association was strongest in low-income neighbourhoods where many residents have few other options for cooling down. What’s more, the authors found, public pool availability during extreme summer temperatures can reduce heat-related emergency calls by 15 to 29 per cent. 

Five years ago, a heat dome caused 619 deaths in B.C., the deadliest weather event in Canadian history. June 2021 was a wake-up call about the risks posed by climate change, and the urgent need for cities to adapt to extreme heat events. But looking for a place to get wet in Vancouver reveals an alarming reality: we’re not ready for the summer ahead — and we’re definitely not prepared for the future. 

How to cope with heat

Outdoor water recreation is not the only way to cope with heat waves, but it is an important one, especially for people who don’t live in spaces that can be easily cooled. The BC Coroners Service reported 98 per cent of deaths during the 2021 heat dome happened indoors, and most of those who died lacked air conditioning or fans. 

A 2023 report from the federal government noted that B.C. has the fewest number of households with air conditioning — just 32 per cent, compared to 61 per cent nationally. Among low-income households, that figure drops to 17 per cent. Until just a few days ago, landlords could still prohibit renters from installing portable air conditioners without penalty.

“The number of people vulnerable to an extreme heat event is expected to grow as census predictions show a steadily rising elderly population and an increasing share of one-person households,” the report noted. 

But earlier this year, the City of Vancouver discontinued its four-year-old cool kit program, which distributed water bottles, spray bottles, cooling gel packs and other useful things for those that needed them. Instead, the city has seemingly replaced this program with a list of tips for cooling down in the heat. Among the places they advise going to are the still-closed swimming and wading pools. 

As temperatures have risen in recent decades, Vancouver has lost pools: since 1993, four outdoor swimming pools have been decommissioned while adding just one, at Hillcrest Aquatic Centre. Kitsilano Pool, the city’s most popular outdoor pool, is nearing the end of its life and had its season shortened the last two summers due to repairs.

And last October, the city passed a budget cutting $120 million from various departments to spare homeowners a property tax increase. The Vancouver Park Board noted this would mean a $15 million cut to parks. It’s a cut that doesn’t bode well for the ability to improve water amenities in the summer.

Tightened budgets mean we also can’t extend pool operating hours or seasons, which also speak to an antiquated definition of summer that has yet to catch up with our new reality. Wading pools weren’t set to open for another few weeks — even before water restrictions put them on hold altogether. Three of the city’s five outdoor pools close on Labour Day. But high temperatures often persist well beyond that; last September was the hottest on record in Vancouver history. 

A representative for the city told The Narwhal that spray parks — which operate on demand — are more aligned with the city’s water conservation goals than wading pools, which must be filled and drained each day to comply with public health guidelines. A representative from the city told The Narwhal that one new spray park is being designed, while the renewal of another is scheduled to begin this fall. In addition, they wrote “funding is being sought for one or two new spray parks” in the forthcoming capital plan. Increases in spending on wading pools and spray parks since 2019, the city wrote, “reflects a shift toward more extensive repairs and renewals driven by the age and condition of existing infrastructure, as well as available funding.”

Of course, there are Vancouver’s many beaches. They’re free, numerous and open all year — but not always safe to enjoy. Last July, eight beaches were deemed unsafe due to E. coli levels. Even when they are open, they’re not accessible for everyone — like young children, those with mobility issues or anyone else who lives too far to drop by on a hot day — and a climate-resilient city should have cooling infrastructure in every neighbourhood, rather than expecting all its citizens to trek to the beach. 

Pools and outdoor water infrastructure aren’t things that are nice to have. They’re climate adaptations, even if “thermal respite,” or relief from extreme temperatures, is mentioned last among the reasons for pool use in Vancouver’s 2019 aquatic strategy. 

As in 2021, those most at risk from extreme heat this summer are the city’s most vulnerable: low-income and unhoused citizens, as well as the youngest and oldest among us. If only there were more places for them to escape the heat.

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Summary

• Historically, First Nations in B.C. who lived near floodplains respected tides and lived nomadically, until settlers disrupted water flow, creating dikes to pursue agriculture and urban development.
• Xwíʔləm̓nəc, or Addington Point Marsh, has been restored to a wetland after three years of collaboration led by Katzie First Nation.
• Restoring wetlands brings life to countless species and helps restore Indigenous people’s connection to their traditional territories. The marsh is part of Canada’s largest salmon-bearing watershed.

On a late April morning, a group of Katzie First Nation land guardians, conservation workers, government representatives and others trek down to Xwíʔləm̓nəc (Addington Point Marsh).

They gather in the First Nation’s Lower Mainland territory to celebrate the long-awaited completion of a wetland restoration project connecting to the Stó:lō (Fraser River).

Mike Leon leads Katzie’s team of eight guardians, and has been involved with the marsh restoration project from the beginning. After everyone bypasses a locked gate — there to reduce the risk of bear-human encounters — they stop by the water, and he addresses the group.

“I would really like to raise my hands to all of you, to the hard work and willingness to work with us, to be with us, to be with this land,” he said.

The restoration project was funded by the B.C. government and the federal Department of Fisheries and Oceans, implemented by Katzie First Nation, Resilient Waters, Ducks Unlimited Canada and the Nature Trust of British Columbia, with many helping hands involved.

For three years the partners worked together to reestablish waterflow in the marsh. The wetlands connection to the Pitt River and South Fraser River system was disconnected when early settlers installed a dike, which has since been removed. 

“I love doing the work. I love being on our territory and helping the environment,” Mackenzie Adams, another Katzie guardian, added. Adams monitored the site throughout the project, and collected water and bird surveys to compare data before and after restoration. 

According to the B.C. Wildlife Federation, wetland monitoring is just as important as the initial restoration during a project. “Monitoring, maintenance, and data collection help us evaluate the effectiveness of restoration techniques and improve the performance and function of future projects,” it reads on their website.

Xwíʔləm̓nəc is now letting nature take its course, and with the area being home to one of the country’s largest salmon runs and smallest sandhill crane populations, monitoring the wetland is critical work for Katzie Guardians. 

“I was there one of the first days … comparing the first day to the last day was pretty eye opening because you can already see the differences from the river water coming in. It will be an awesome habitat for all birds and salmon fry,” Adams said. 

While the exact impact is currently unknown, wetland restoration benefits are well documented. Leon’s team will be on top of that data, working with partners to restore and conserve native plants and animals in the area.

Relationships between Katzie Guardians and partners in the project have flourished. A local property owner who attended the celebration shared their initial concerns after seeing excavation equipment clearing a path to the dike, and their relief after learning more about the endeavour. Beyond its environmental impacts, the project has brought people together from all walks of life who want to see salmon and wildlife in and around the Fraser River thrive.

Restoration project had many partners, but Katzie had final say

Dan Straker, the manager for the Resilient Waters project, was a lead organizer under the direction of Katzie Guardians and leadership. 

“With Katzie First Nation, it was determined early on they would have final decision making and be informing the project along the way. All the partners fell in line with that idea and thinking,” Straker told the Narwhal. 

“What we ended up with was this really nice blended way of doing things, from a more two-eyed seeing approach.” 

Leon added that, throughout the endeavour, Katzie brought in their customs, culture and laws.

“It’s really important and special to us to know our place names in our territory. When we have our guardians come out, we’re honored to be on those place names such as Xwíʔləm̓nəc,” Leon said. 

It’s a sentiment shared by Katzie’s guardian coordinator April Pierre. In a quiet moment of emotion in the circle, she addressed a reality shared by many First Nations people: growing up away from her homelands.

The Xwíʔləm̓nəc restoration project gave Pierre an opportunity to spend time on land she had never been to — the land of her ancestors. It’s one emotional moment of many that were shared during the celebration, as others reflected on the marine and wildlife already making appearances in the marsh.

Dikes were built to create flat land for agriculture in the area since the late 1800s. Restoring the marsh’s connection to the river has immense ecological benefits and cultural benefits for local First Nations.

“Conservation organizations in previous decades had a different approach to conservation land management that I think sometimes excluded other organizations and nations,” Ducks Unlimited senior restoration biologist, Eric Balke, said.

“I think we are learning new and better ways of moving forward, more collaborative ways, and this project is a great example of that.”

Balke has been involved with restoring Xwíʔləm̓nəc since brainstorming and planning days, eventually passing the reins to his colleague Alison Martin.

“What excites me about this project is it’s all about restoring relationships,” he said. “You’re restoring the relationship between the river and these wetlands that were formerly alienated by dikes. You’re restoring the relationship between Xwíʔləm̓nəc and juvenile salmon that previously were prevented from accessing the site … it’s also restoring the relationship between Katzie and their kin.”

Wetland restoration benefits salmon

In the Pacific Northwest, both people and the ecosystem know how important salmon is. Xwíʔləm̓nəc is connected to Canada’s largest salmon-bearing watershed, the Fraser River. 

According to the Pacific Salmon Foundation, “floodplains provide critical, food-rich habitat for juvenile salmon. These low-lying areas adjacent to stream channels allow young salmon to grow healthy and strong before their journey to the ocean.”

But dikes disrupt the river’s connection to the marsh, blocking valuable nutrients and harming the salmon and other species.

“Wetlands, such as tidal marshes, help to collect sediment that build up the marsh platform, helping to protect our communities from flooding,” Balke said.

“This land that settlers found is super valuable for farming and agriculture, it was valuable because of the sediment that was delivered, because of the nutrients that were delivered by the river,” he said.

“When we construct dikes we disconnect the river from its floodplain. The river can no longer deliver those critical ingredients.”

A huge benefit of restoring tidal marshes is that they are one of the most effective ways of capturing and storing carbon, contaminants and pollutants that flow downstream. 

Further, Xwíʔləm̓nəc is home to wapoto and tule, two traditional plants for Katzie First Nation that have been impacted from dikes. Restoring the wetland is giving members of the nation hope that these plants can be harvested for food and mat-making once again.

The marsh is also home to sandhill cranes, whose local population has hovered around 30 to 35 birds for decades, Myles Lamont told the Narwhal. He was brought into the project by Katzie as a sandhill crane consultant.

“The remaining birds seem to nest in golf courses and some very small regional parks … Unfortunately they’ve been getting struck by golf balls. Quite commonly over the last 10 to 15 years, I’ve had to rescue a few birds that have had broken legs or injuries as a result of golf ball strikes, particularly in Richmond,” Lamont said. 

He is hopeful that restoring Xwíʔləm̓nəc to a wetland will bring in enough water to create a nesting habitat for the birds, drawing them away from golf courses. As folks went around the sharing circle, Lamont spotted one overhead, calling out, “Crane!” 

“It’s really cool being a part of it. Just knowing that we’re making a difference, I’m making a difference,” Adams said.“The salmon habitat has a place to go throughout the winter and so do the sandhill cranes and birds. It’s a good feeling … I feel accomplished.”

The Narwhal’s reporters are telling environment stories you won’t read about anywhere else. Stay in the loop by signing up for our free weekly dose of independent journalism.

Summary

• A shuttered resort in Kananaskis Country could size up and reopen, with plans to build 1,400 parking spots, mountain coasters, minigolf and space for nearly 10,000 visitors a day.
• The location has been designated under Alberta’s All-season Resorts Act, which aims to speed up approvals for tourism projects.
• Experts are concerned the project, the size of a small city, will consume huge amounts of water in a region already dealing with drought.

Hidden amongst the sprawling, rugged network of public land, protected areas and provincial parks 125 kilometres west of Calgary, scattered, partially boarded up buildings sit below mountain peaks. They are the relics of the once-vibrant Fortress Mountain Resort. 

Now the company behind the on-again, off-again ski resort is applying under the All-season Resorts Act to build out its aged resort as a much-expanded four-season destination.

But when Fortress Mountain Resort unveiled its redevelopment plan in January, many were left with more questions than answers, particularly when it comes to the water supply for thousands of visitors to a drought-stricken region. 

“I don’t understand where that water’s going to come from,” Bob Sandford, senior government relations liaison with the United Nations University Institute for Water, Environment and Health, said in an interview with The Narwhal. 

The resort would welcome nearly 10,000 additional daily visitors to Kananaskis Country at its peak, which Sandford compared to the development of a small city. 

“A town the size that they’re developing, that water footprint’s really heavy,” he said. “What are the downstream effects going to be?”

The proposed expansion is a far cry from the old days of Fortress. When the resort first opened in 1967 under the name Snowridge, the lodge could accommodate 140 overnight guests. Six condos were built in 1976.

The ski hill operated for decades, changing hands multiple times before closing to the public one last time in 2006. 

Now, Alberta’s 2024 All-season Resorts Act is giving it new life. The Alberta government says the act helps to grow the tourism industry, “strengthen investor confidence” and offer “tailored support to the resort development industry.” The Canadian Parks and Wilderness Society says the act means resorts can circumvent and undermine environmental laws. Under the act, areas are designated for streamlined approval for tourism projects.

Fortress is hoping to develop in one of three areas that were designated under the act in December. A fourth is under review. 

The five-phase vision for Fortress includes up to 9,650 day-visitors by completion and 1,500 employees, plus overnight visitors and staff in 2,500 on-site units that would be a mix of tourist accommodation, real estate and employee housing, along with at least 1,400 parking stalls. It would take 15 years to complete. 

Designating the Fortress site for an all-season resort required the removal of 131 hectares from provincial parkland, according to an analysis from the Canadian Parks and Wilderness Society.

The resort will include activities like electric all-terrain vehicles, mountain biking, minigolf, two “mountain coasters” (bobsled-like roller coasters), zip lining and more, along with infrastructure for more than 12 ski lifts, including five gondolas and five chairlifts. 

It’s what Katie Morrison, the executive director of the southern Alberta chapter of the Canadian Parks and Wilderness Society, describes as an “amusement park” in an area of ecological importance for sensitive wildlife like grizzly bears, wolverines and bull trout — all in an area already under strain from tourism.

For its part, Fortress says the project team is dedicated to sustainability.

“We aim to be the most water-efficient resort in Alberta,” project director Danielle Vlemmiks said in response to The Narwhal’s questions over email.

Vlemmiks said, should the resort decide to make snow in later phases, Fortress plans to use grey water for snowmaking, something done at other resorts, and is planning activities that do not require large water use.

But that doesn’t quell concerns from environmental advocates who have long been ringing alarm bells over tourism development in the Rockies — an area where wildlife habitat and headwaters are already under threat from clear-cutting, coal mining and more.

So, when Fortress released its plan in January, it was a “worst-case scenario,” Morrison said.

Resort act a ‘regulatory failure’: lawyer

The Fortress proposal and water use is a good example of the All-season Resorts Act’s shortcomings, University of Calgary law professor Shaun Fluker said in an interview with The Narwhal.

Under the act, decision-making power for some large-scale recreation projects has been given to the Tourism Ministry, which has set a goal to grow tourism revenues to $25 billion by 2035. It’s a system Fluker describes as a “fiefdom of the minister.”  

“There are no guardrails,” he said.

The All-season Resorts Act establishes a new kind of zone, an “all-season resort area,” which can be created by the tourism minister. After an area has been designated under the act, a developer can then submit an application for a proposed development, including an environmental assessment it has contracted. The proposal must also undergo a minimum 30-day public consultation and an Indigenous consultation period. The Tourism Ministry makes a decision within 150 days of the application being complete. 

Morrison said the entire legislative process, from tabling the act to implementing it, has been rushed. And she noted the decision-making power lies with the same ministry mandated to increase tourism development, which she says is problematic, particularly under a fast timeline. 

“It’s a little bit of the fox watching the hen house,” Morrison said. “Some of the reasons we have had delays in approval on these things is because this is a really complex landscape.”

As it stands, Morrison said, the environmental assessment Fortress supplied as part of its application lacks critical information, and is “woefully inadequate” in addressing the potential impacts of the development. Bull trout, a threatened species in Alberta, have specifically been “completely ignored” by the report, she said, as has information needed to understand the impacts of the development on wildlife, aquatic ecosystems and water use in the region.

Fluker said the inadequacy of the assessment, which every expert in this story agreed lacked information for decision-making, “undermines the whole approval process.” 

“No credible impact assessment process would take that as a final submission because there’s really nothing usable in it,” he said. 

As a requirement, an assessment should put forth enough data for experts to evaluate the potential impacts of a project and come up with solutions. 

With this assessment, he said, “I don’t know how anybody could do that.” 

Details like how much water the resort would need to operate are currently being studied, Vlemmiks said. But, because Fortress is planning to be as economical with its water use as possible, the needs of the development will have to align with the project design, which will not be finalized for some time.

According to the assessment, and confirmed by Vlemmiks, Fortress has enough water for phase one of its five-phase plan, which anticipates 3,000 day-use visitors. Beyond that, more water may be required. 

According to a briefing note from the Tourism Ministry dated June 19, 2025, and obtained through a freedom of information request, the government is well aware of concerns with how the act will deal with water issues in particular. 

“[The Ministry of Environment and Protected Areas] has previously raised concerns about how [all-season resorts] will align with water management priorities, especially in light of recent droughts in southern Alberta,” the note reads. 

But, it adds, “these concerns are addressed” through a system where Tourism and Sport will share water management responsibilities at resorts alongside the Environment Ministry. 

The system is a red flag to Fluker.

Concerns should be brought to and evaluated by an independent board of scientific experts, he said. (The Alberta government did not respond to detailed questions from The Narwhal.)

“That is exactly the kind of issue or topic that a credible impact assessment process grapples [with],” he said. 

Morrison agrees, adding she was surprised water didn’t play a bigger role in the proposal — especially given Fortress’s history with water use.

Water from resort is currently sold as bottled ‘glacier water’

Alberta is in a multi-year drought, with conditions across the province ranging from “abnormally dry” to “severe drought.” Forty water shortage advisories were posted in April 2026. But southern Alberta has a long, complex history with drought and water management, including in Kananskis Country.

Alberta has seen two or three seasons of significant water shortage in the last 20 years, Cathy Ryan, a University of Calgary professor in earth, energy and environment, said. 

In times of drought, the main concerns are increased wildfires and sufficient water supply — for residents, visitors and ecosystems, Ryan said.

Water supply is managed by the province through a licence system that grants users the right to divert water whether from below ground or from rivers, lakes or streams.

Fortress is part of the vast Bow River Basin — which is itself within the South Saskatchewan River Basin drainage area. The Bow River flows through Banff National Park and eventually merges with the Oldman River to form the South Saskatchewan River. From there, it moves across the Prairies toward Medicine Hat in southern Alberta and beyond. 

The sale of new water licences in the South Saskatchewan River Basin, where Fortress is located, has been prohibited since 2006. But Fortress Mountain Holdings has two licences, one of which is for potable water. 

In 2019, Fortress was given the green light to sell half of the 98,700 cubic metres, or just under 40 Olympic swimming pools, of its potable water licence commercially. The change was opposed by environmental groups and lawyers and was challenged — unsuccessfully — by Stoney Nakoda First Nation in court in 2020. Canned water from Fortress is now sold as rök Glacier Water.

Should the resort proposal be approved, Vlemmiks said Fortress will cease commercial water sales.

She said the company plans to create a closed-loop system on site. That could include geothermal heat, greywater-supplied snowmaking and reusing water, though she did not provide any further details.

Vlemmiks also said Fortress is exploring a partnership with Stoney Nakoda First Nation to supply and manage water for subsequent phases, and is currently undergoing an Indigenous consultation process. Stoney Nakoda First Nation did not respond to a request for comment.  

“We are actively pursuing answers,” Vlemmiks said. 

But critics warn even the best-laid plans are subject to a changing climate — and declining water resources.

 Concerns about water shortages in Kananaskis Country

When it comes to divvying up water, Cathy Ryan from the University of Calgary said it’s been managed so far by “playing nicely in the sandbox.” But in the event of a shortage, the government can step in to manage water supply.

It’s happened more than once in the last 20 years. Most recently, in April 2024, Alberta instituted water-sharing agreements, where 38 of the largest water-licence holders — making up 90 per cent of the Bow and Oldman basins and 70 per cent in the Red Deer basin — agreed to voluntarily reduce water use if severe drought conditions developed due to several dry seasons and an El Niño winter.  

But water-sharing agreements are voluntary. 

In 2006, more drastic measures were taken: the province stopped the sale of new water licences in the over-allocated South Saskatchewan River Basin to protect the aquatic ecosystem and ensure Alberta could meet its water-sharing obligation with neighbouring provinces.

According to the province’s online tool, the Bow River Basin, where Fortress is located, was considered in moderate drought in February. 

In January, United Nations and Global Affairs Canada released a report about water bankruptcy, defined as when sustained water withdrawal exceeds replenishment, akin to spending outpacing income. Sandford, with the United Nations water think-tank, warned southern Alberta is already headed toward water bankruptcy. 

As climate change increases temperatures and exacerbates the effects of drought, Sandford’s concerns are far-reaching.

Fortress’s proposed development will land amidst a sea of warning signs outlined in the report, Sandford said. Southern Alberta ticks every box, he added, including infrastructure, long-term over-allocation of water and what’s known as ecological liquidation, when wetlands and forests are degraded for short-term gain.

Sandford said the province needs to plan for the persistent high temperatures, extreme drought and low snowpacks it is already seeing, and the impacts. Multiple wildfires have already been reported in southern Alberta since the beginning of the year. 

And as soil moisture dries up, rain won’t have the same penetrating effects, resulting in a “vicious circle of drying out,” Sandford said.

“You’re taking away the environment’s share of water,” he said. “Even at this moment, without the projected changes that we’re seeing, I don’t think they can do this.”

The Narwhal’s reporters are telling environment stories you won’t read about anywhere else. Stay in the loop by signing up for our free weekly dose of independent journalism.

This story is part of a series called Shockwave: Rising energy demand and the future of the Great Lakes. The Great Lakes region is in the midst of a seismic energy shakeup, from skyrocketing data centre demand and a nuclear energy boom, to expanding renewables and electrification. In 2026, the Great Lakes News Collaborative will explore how shifting supply and demand affect the region and its waters.

As a study in troubled operation, the Palisades Nuclear Plant once was ranked by the United States federal government as one of the four worst-performing nuclear power stations in the country. The 51-year-old facility closed in 2022, joining Big Rock Point near Charlevoix and 11 other nuclear plants decommissioned outside Michigan in what appeared to represent the sunset of the era of splitting atoms to produce electricity.

Not so fast. Sometime in the next few months, a New Jersey-based company called Holtec International is expected to finish renovating Palisades, fire up the old reactor and add 800 megawatts of generating capacity to Michigan’s electricity supply. It would be the first time a decommissioned nuclear plant has ever restarted in the United States. 

And that’s not the only game-changing nuclear development occurring at the Palisades site along the Lake Michigan shoreline in the state’s southwest corner. Holtec is busy seeking permission from the Nuclear Regulatory Commission, the United States’ licensing and safety agency, to start construction for a new 680-megawatt nuclear generating station next door to the old reactor. The company wants to power the new plant with not one but two 340-megawatt advanced small modular reactors.

So-called “SMRs” are now viewed by the industry, government, utilities and big energy consumers as one of the go-to electrical generating technologies of the 21st century. Holtec’s planned Pioneer I and II small reactors, and its Palisades reactor restart, signal the opening of a new era of electrical supply and demand in the Great Lakes basin. 

Holtec’s commitment to nuclear power, like other developers in the U.S. nuclear sector, is motivated by several converging and unconfirmed projections that are prompting billions of dollars in investment. By far the most important are that the cost of building nuclear plants will fall, and that demand for electricity will significantly increase. Nuclear developers and utility executives have embraced both optimistic scenarios, especially that electrical demand could increase as much as 50 per cent by mid-century, driven by data centre construction, new manufacturing plants, growing cities and electrified transportation. Both of Holtec’s projects in Michigan, and several more developments by other companies in Wisconsin, Ohio, Illinois and Ontario, are giving nuclear power new purchase in the region’s energy landscape.

One of the most influential supporters is Michigan Governor Gretchen Whitmer, who is positioning Michigan at the lead of the nuclear revival era. She declared in a statement that opening Palisades and adding the small modular reactor plant “will lower energy costs, reaffirm Michigan’s clean energy leadership and show the world that we are the best place to do business.” 

Whitmer signed legislation in 2023 mandating that 100 per cent of the state’s electricity come from “clean power” sources, among them nuclear energy. Michigan awarded Holtec US$300 million to restart Palisades, a portion of the public funding package that included US$1.52 billion in loan guarantees from the U.S. Department of Energy. The Energy Department also awarded Holtec US$400 million more to develop the new SMR plant.

A study of small modular reactor development by the Department of Energy in 2023 found that construction costs for the first plants, like the one Holtec is planning, will be high because of limits on the supply chain providing parts, construction experience and unknown interest rates for financing. At current estimates of SMR construction costs of US$12 million to $15 million per megawatt, Holtec’s 680-megawatt plant could be put into operation at a cost of US$7 billion to $10 billion.

Michigan’s bid to stimulate new markets for nuclear energy, moreover, are still dogged by old concerns about safety, waste management and the cost of construction and operation. Three public interest groups filed a federal lawsuit in November asserting that opening the old Palisades reactor was illegal and unsafe. The case is pending in Federal District Court in Grand Rapids.

Safety, cost and waste addressed

By any measure, managing high-level radioactive waste from commercial reactors has not changed much in the last half century and persists as an issue because no permanent waste repository has been established in the U.S. But other considerations of the risks, benefits and cost of nuclear power are tilting in new directions, especially for SMR plants like the one Holtec is proposing in Michigan. 

Small modular reactor developers make a consistent case for proceeding with the new technology.

Water consumption looks to be an environmental advantage, particularly in water-abundant regions like the Great Lakes. Holtec’s environmental statement filed with the Nuclear Regulatory Commission reports that the two reactors will draw 95,000 litres a minute for operation — as much as 135 million litres a day. At that rate the new plant, which is 15 per cent smaller than the existing Palisades plant, will withdraw 75 per cent less water. 

Because of its more compact 50-hectare footprint, the new Holtec plant would easily fit onto the 175-hectare site that already encompasses the existing reactor. It will transmit electricity with the existing powerlines and infrastructure. And like other commercial reactors, small modular reactors don’t discharge climate-warming gases, a big factor in why nuclear power has gained considerably more support in public polling in recent years.

When it comes to operational safety, Holtec and other SMR plant developers say their designs also answer that concern. The advanced modular reactors are smaller and contain less fuel, produce lower levels of radiation and can operate at a lower temperature and pressure than big conventional reactors. Those properties enable engineers to design a reactor that can be cooled with water or air, and can be shut down with gravity-fed systems that don’t rely on mechanical pumps. 

“When it comes to safety the question is, ‘How do I keep this cool?’ ” Brendan Kochunas, associate professor of nuclear engineering at the University of Michigan, said. “And that comes back to the amount of fuel that you have in the core. SMRs have smaller cores. There’s less heat being produced so you need to remove less heat.”

Industry executives assert that because the reactors are smaller than conventional 1,000-megawatt plants, they will require fewer construction materials, take fewer years to build and be less expensive to operate. Industry executives say their goal is to standardize designs so that parts can be manufactured and new reactors can be assembled and shipped on trucks or by rail. And because SMR plants have multiple reactors, one can be shut down for maintenance while the others continue operating. 

“In discussions we’ve had about small modular reactors, there may be lower upfront costs and potentially faster deployment because you don’t have quite as much concrete,” Scott Burnell, the spokesperson for the Nuclear Regulatory Commission, said in an interview. “And once you get into operation, the concept is you’ve got several small reactors running. If you bring one down for maintenance, you still have others running, generating profit.”

Race for orders

Holtec is competing with 30 other small modular reactor developers in the U.S. to be among the first to bring its reactor to market. Patrick O’Brien, the Holtec spokesperson, explained that the company has spent 15 years designing the SMR-300, preparing architectural plans for the generating station and keeping the regulatory commission informed of its activities. Though the SMR-300 has not received an operating licence, O’Brien said Holtec is confident it will be approved and the plant would be operating in 2032. “A lot of the work was done up front,” he said. “We’re anticipating two and a half more years’ worth of licensing work from the [Nuclear Regulatory Commission]. And two and a half years of construction.”

That’s an optimistic schedule for new nuclear plants. NuScale, an SMR designer based in Oregon, licensed its first 66-megawatt reactor with the regulatory commission in 2023. It has yet to build a new plant. NuScale’s first project to install seven small modular reactors at a 462-megawatt plant in Idaho collapsed after construction cost estimates increased from under US$4 billion to more than $9 billion. 

The NuScale experience reveals that uncontrolled costs are a primary impediment not just for big traditional reactors but also to SMR development. Small modular reactors don’t exist in North America or Europe, and just three operate in the world — two 35-megawatt reactors operating on a ship in Russia and a third 125-megawatt small modular reactor in China. “One always has to remember that these are experimental technologies,” Joseph Romm, a physicist and senior research fellow at the University of Pennsylvania, said. “Both the Russian and Chinese reactors had huge cost overruns.”

According to an important study published last year by the University of Michigan, small modular reactors also may produce new environmental risks that could attract more review. Small reactors, for instance, have the potential to introduce new and unregulated byproducts and increased levels of radioactivity due to the demand for highly enriched uranium fuel, according to the report, The Reactor Around The Corner.

Another likely environmental risk is deploying small reactors to power big industrial projects in the world’s wild and undeveloped places. Small modular reactors pack a lot of energy into a small and portable power source, said the report’s authors, who projected that the small reactors will enable construction of big mines and industrial plants in terrain that has been too expensive to reach or entirely inaccessible. “SMRs will introduce and exacerbate direct and indirect environmental harms, especially on marginalized communities, that complicate the justification for using them to mitigate climate change,” they wrote.

Midwest familiarity with atomic technology

To date, elected leaders and residents in Michigan and the other Great Lakes states have responded to the opening of a new era of nuclear development with much more enthusiasm than alarm. That may be due principally to the region’s pioneering role in fostering atomic energy. The first nuclear chain reaction occurred at the University of Chicago in 1942. Argonne National Laboratory opened in Illinois in 1946 to serve as the centre of atomic research and technology development. The Shippingport Atomic Power Station in Pennsylvania opened in 1957 as the first commercial nuclear generating station.

Not since the height of commercial nuclear energy construction in the 1960s and 1970s have Great Lakes states seen such a concentration of new nuclear projects either underway or planned. The Palisades restart would push the number of operating nuclear reactors in the eight states to 24, second only to the more than 30 big reactors operating in the six southeast states.

More big reactors could be on the way. DTE Energy notified the Nuclear Regulatory Commission last year that it is actively studying the development of a new reactor at its Fermi Nuclear Generating Station south of Detroit along Lake Erie. 

Small modular reactor plants, too, are attracting attention in the Great Lakes basin. Ontario Power Generation is constructing a 1,200-megawatt plant, composed of four 300-megawatt SMRs, at its Darlington Nuclear Generating Station along the shore of Lake Ontario. It could be the first operating commercial SMR plant in North America. 

Utah-based EnergySolutions is proposing to build “new nuclear generation” along the Lake Michigan shoreline in Wisconsin at the Kewaunee Power Station, which closed operation in 2013. Oklo Inc., a California company, is proposing a small modular reactor in Portsmouth, Ohio, where a closed federal plant once enriched uranium for nuclear weapons. The University of Illinois notified the regulatory commission that it is developing a gas-cooled SMR research reactor at its campus in Champaign-Urbana. 

The surge of interest is the second time this century that utilities, government and investors have tried to revive nuclear power in the U.S., and is driven by many of the same factors. One is federal policy to promote nuclear projects. The second is a tide of government financing that can be traced back to 2021 when then-president Joe Biden signed the US$1.2 trillion Infrastructure Investment and Jobs Act that directed US$8 billion to nuclear energy. Three years later, Biden signed the ADVANCE Act to make it easier and less expensive for nuclear plant developers to license their designs with the Nuclear Regulatory Commission.

President Donald Trump also supports nuclear energy. He signed four executive orders in 2025 to accelerate the deployment and integration of advanced nuclear reactor technologies, and directed federal agencies to take aggressive action to build a nuclear production industry to mine and enrich uranium and construct manufacturing plants to fabricate fuel, reactors and parts. Earlier this month, the Department of Energy exempted small modular reactors from National Environmental Policy Act review. 

Westinghouse late last year signed an agreement with the U.S. government to build ten 1,000-megawatt reactors in the U.S. That agreement is tied to the pact that Trump reached with Japan last October to finance US$332 billion “to support critical energy infrastructure in the United States,” including the construction of ten Westinghouse AP1000 reactors and small modular reactors. The president also wants to develop the capacity to recycle nuclear fuel to reduce highly radioactive waste. 

Trump’s goal is to quadruple electrical generation capacity from nuclear power from 97 gigawatts today, powered by 94 operating reactors, to 400 gigawatts by 2050.

In the last five years, Congress has enacted more than US$20 billion in direct appropriations for nuclear energy programs, along with tax credits and federal loan authority that add billions more in federal support for existing and advanced reactors. 

U.S. technology giants like Amazon, Google, Meta and Microsoft also are getting involved.

Company executives are establishing formal agreements with nuclear developers to build and buy power for their data centres. Meta, for instance, has an agreement with Oklo Inc. to build a proposed 1,200-megawatt small modular reactor plant in Ohio. The high-tech stalwarts also joined 14 major global banks and financial institutions, 140 nuclear industry companies and 31 countries in signing a pledge last year in Texas to support tripling global nuclear capacity by 2050.

Just marketing?

The big unknown is how much of this fervour is grounded in reality, and how much is hype and marketing. During the last attempt to revive nuclear energy in the U.S., from 2007 to 2010, the Nuclear Regulatory Commission counted over 20 nuclear plant proposals to review. But the heat of atomic hope quickly cooled as fracking started to produce ample supplies of natural gas, and much less expensive wind and solar power was gaining momentum. Just two new reactors that started construction during that period actually got built and began operating at Georgia Power’s Plant Vogtle. It took the utility 15 years to finish the project in 2024 at a cost of more than US$30 billion. 

“Some vendors are overselling the vision,” Kochunas of the University of Michigan said. “I hope we do see some SMRs. They still have challenges in their economics. For it to succeed, one of these companies is going to need to establish a pretty substantial order book.” 

Could that be Holtec? 

“Yes,” Kochunas said. “I think they’ll get that built in Michigan. If they execute the project successfully, they will have opportunities to build more of them. Hopefully, you’ll see people lining up to get them. But if the execution of the project goes poorly and there’s significant delays and cost overruns and problems, it’s going to be hard to change that first impression.”

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Researchers at the University of Manitoba will soon have a new, non-invasive tool to study the province’s vast groundwater resources after inking a partnership with Alberta-based mining company Sio Silica.

“If the technology works … it’s going to provide a mechanism to do real-time monitoring of changes in groundwater,” Ricardo Mantilla, an associate professor in the university’s civil engineering department and lead researcher for the project, said in an interview. 

The emerging technology — called absolute quantum gravimetry — can measure changes in gravity caused by changes in groundwater levels, allowing researchers to better understand the flow and storage of underground water resources without the need for “expensive and disruptive” drilling, he said.

“That obviously has applications for [Sio Silica], but it can have very important implications for how we understand groundwater in aquifers in our province.”

Sio Silica president Carla Devlin said the partnership demonstrates the company’s support for “independent research and transparent monitoring … [that] strengthens accountability and builds trust” as it continues to seek a licence for a controversial sand mine.

Sio Silica is in the process of seeking an environmental licence for a mine that proposes airlifting silica sand from a drinking water aquifer in southeastern Manitoba. It’s the company’s second attempt to secure a licence; Manitoba’s environment minister rejected an initial proposal in early 2024 following a hearing by the province’s Clean Environment Commission.

The company believes the aquifer, located 60 metres below the communities of Vivian, Anola, Springfield and others, contains high-purity silica sand that can be transformed into silicon metal — a critical mineral used for high-tech applications such as computer chips and lithium-ion batteries. Silica sand is also used in manufacturing, solar panel production and hydraulic fracturing, or fracking.

Residents have pushed back against the mining operation, concerned it could damage a drinking water source that serves more than 120,000 households.

The environment commission described the company’s initial proposal to drill more than 7,000 wells over 25 years and extract more than one million tonnes of sand annually with a technique that has never been used for a large-scale mine as “experimental,” urging caution and additional testing.

In October, Sio Silica submitted a revised application to the environmental assessment branch that proposes fewer wells, smaller sand quantities and a more gradual approach.

Devlin said supporting groundwater monitoring research at Manitoba’s largest university shows the company is “really focused on water safety.”

“The work is designed to safeguard groundwater, and it will confirm that our operations will not put Manitoba’s water at risk. By monitoring and sharing data, we are helping ensure clean, safe water for communities now and into the future,” she added. 

While the technology to monitor changes in the gravitational field caused by water movement is already used in satellites, Mantilla said this new machinery — effectively a “very sophisticated refrigerator” that cools atoms to a temperature where changes in gravity become measurable — can be loaded into a truck and carted around the province, allowing for a much more localized understanding of water systems.

Mantilla said the company’s mine site could become “a good experimental test” of the new technology, but his team has a much broader focus. 

“Groundwater is everything in Manitoba,” he said.

The province, famed for its 100,000 lakes, its web of rivers and its connection to the Arctic, is a “perfect laboratory” for water research, Mantilla said, adding the research will also have implications for one of the province’s largest industries — agriculture.

“A lot of people in the province rely on groundwater, and we want to make sure that resource is being used in a sustainable way,” Mantilla said. “This technology is well beyond any particular industrial application.” 

Mantilla said his team has been researching this method of groundwater monitoring for over a year, and was seeking out funders to help purchase the specialized machinery, which “runs in the million-dollar type of investment.” 

He connected with Sio Silica when the company visited several research groups in the university’s engineering department and took an interest in his project, later agreeing to sponsor the research.

Hans-Joachim Wieden, the university’s associate vice-president for partnership, knowledge mobilization and innovation, said these kinds of industry partnerships are critical to maximize the impact of the institution’s research. Support from the private sector helps fill gaps in federal research funding, gives students valuable job experience and provides a pathway for research to make a tangible impact in communities.

“We, as the university, are interested in doing industry collaboration … for the benefits it holds for the students, for the researchers and for the communities we are in,” Wieden said.

On top of its financial contribution, Sio Silica plans to share groundwater monitoring data from its mine site with the university to help model and understand the aquifer as a complete system. Devlin noted the company envisions a long-term partnership that could include helping build out the university’s hydrology department.

“The work is not a localized mitigation exercise, it’s a foundational reset in how aquifers are understood,” she said of Mantilla’s research.

Julia-Simone Rutgers is a reporter covering environmental issues in Manitoba. Her position is part of a partnership between The Narwhal and the Winnipeg Free Press.

The Narwhal’s reporters are telling environment stories you won’t read about anywhere else. Stay in the loop by signing up for our free weekly dose of independent journalism.

Splashed across the website of nearly every conservation authority in Ontario is a warning about low water levels. 

For nearly 80 years, the provincial agencies have been tasked with protecting public health and safety related to the province’s watersheds. That means safeguarding local drinking water sources and working to reduce the risks from natural hazards like flooding, erosion and drought. As Ontario’s population has grown, they have also been responsible for regulating development to minimize those risks, issuing permits only to those who pay attention to sustainable construction and growth.

Over the last six years, the Doug Ford government has passed four bills that have drastically changed the rules governing the 36 conservation authorities’ ability to do this job — all to speed up development. Those changes have included reducing conservation authorities’ influence over development, weakening their ability to protect water quality and wetlands and having their decisions be overruled by the overseeing minister.

Each change has come with an argument of efficiency, and since then, nearly all conservation authorities have publicly reported permits are being reviewed faster. Still, some 19 months after the last set of changes was imposed, the government has delivered yet another watershed change: it is proposing to consolidate 36 agencies into seven.

On Oct. 31, Environment Minister Todd McCarthy said individual conservation authorities were “operating largely on their own, with fragmented and outdated data systems and a patchwork of standards and service delivery.” This, he said, had led to “unpredictable and inconsistent turnaround times” for development permit approvals. 

“This is holding back Ontario,” he said.

“Obviously, there’s a fair bit of whiplash or scar tissue, pick your metaphor,” one conservation authority official from northern Ontario said. The Narwhal spoke with 12 people at 12 authorities for this story, many of whom asked to keep their names confidential for fear of retribution from the government. 

According to most of the sources, the threat to consolidate conservation authorities has been “the worst-kept secret” for a long time. It’s been talked about since this government took office, especially as Ford has previously moved to consolidate health care, and is rumoured to be planning the same for school boards. The consistent emphasis on efficiency and rapid development has kept conservation authorities in the crosshairs, as they strived to meet the government pressures without losing focus on their mandate to preserve Ontario’s watersheds and protect the public.

Currently, 26 out of 36 conservation authorities have staff closely monitoring worryingly low water levels in rivers and lakes across the province, with some declaring near-drought conditions brought on by a lack of rain. They’re doing this while they also grapple with the impacts of consolidation.

Consolidation of conservation authorities would be ‘a drastic shift’ that may ‘slow approvals, create confusion’

Despite assurances from McCarthy that they will all still be able to do this core job, there is deep skepticism among conservation authorities based on a historically fraught relationship and a litany of recent Progressive Conservative policies that have endangered Ontario’s water, forests and land. In 2023, two watchdog reports on the Greenbelt scandal found the Ford government had prioritized developer requests over environmental and technical considerations.

“The government is right to want a conservation authority system that is more consistent, transparent and efficient, especially when it comes to supporting housing and economic growth,” Jonathan Scott, a councillor for the town of Bradford West Gwillimbury and chair of the Nottawasaga Valley Conservation Authority board, told The Narwhal. “There may be room for targeted, sensible consolidation in Ontario’s conservation system, but moving from 36 authorities to just seven would be a drastic shift.” 

Scott said the local environmental expertise in each individual authority is essential. “A merger of that scale could create a larger, more distant bureaucracy that is less responsive to local municipalities, developers and farmers — exactly the people who need timely service and value having a local municipal official or trusted member of staff they can call directly,” he said.

“Losing that connection could slow approvals, create confusion and ultimately have the opposite effect of what the government intends.”

The government’s proposal to consolidate conservation authorities has been posted on the Environmental Registry of Ontario for public feedback until Dec. 22. It includes three parts: create a central agency to manage conservation authorities, consult on the boundaries and governance structures of the newly proposed seven regional agencies and then create said agencies by spring 2026. Each proposal has sparked several concerns for conservation authority staff who are in the process of consulting with their municipalities and partners. 

As has been the case since June 2024, no one from the Ontario Ministry of Environment responded to questions from The Narwhal.

Consolidating conservation authorities means overseeing much larger and more complicated watersheds

Ford has been consistently touting the need for “made-in-Ontario” solutions to the province’s issues: conservation authorities are an example of just that. They were created by a Progressive Conservative government in 1946 in response to deforestation. They were strengthened to prevent repeats of the extreme flooding caused by Hurricane Hazel in 1954. While they were tasked with acquiring land for conservation and recreation, their main job has always been monitoring waterways for potential deadly floods, including by regulating development near waterways and wetlands, in flood plains and on Great Lakes shorelines. 

Today, all but five of the 36 conservation authorities are in heavily developed southern Ontario. 

Each authority was created to manage its own watershed, an area of land that drains all the streams and rainfall into a lake, bay or river. The government’s proposal to create seven conservation authorities is based only on the Great Lakes watersheds: Lake Erie, Lake Huron-Superior, Lake Ontario, divided into western, central and eastern and the St. Lawrence River. 

“It’s not a reduction; it’s a consolidation and an amalgamation, which means that all of the communities currently served by conservation authorities will continue to be served by conservation authorities,” Minister McCarthy said on Oct. 31. He repeatedly promised there will be no layoffs in this new structure, but managers will be redeployed as frontline staff.

Conservation authorities have consolidated before. The Toronto and Region Conservation Authority was once four authorities, merged in 1957 to better manage a larger floodplain. Conservation Sudbury and Conservation Halton are both the result of similar mergers. 

Almost all of these consolidations were local decisions made by municipal governments based on specific watershed or development concerns. Earlier this year, municipalities dismissed the idea of merging the Nottawasaga Valley Conservation Authority with Lake Simcoe Region Conservation Authority, saying it would create more costs and less localized service. 

“Geography has always dictated policy,” an eastern Ontario official said. “I’m not sure that’s what’s happening now.”

Every authority oversees a different kind of environment, even if they seem nearby on a map. Water moves differently through varying landscapes and development rates, and the potential effects of flooding on the environment also vary based on geography.

Take the proposed Huron-Superior conservation authority. It would bring together seven authorities spanning roughly 1,400 kilometres and 78 municipalities from Thunder Bay, on Lake Superior through Bruce, Grey and Dufferin Counties, Simcoe County, York Region, Kawartha Lakes and Durham Region. The natural systems that feed Lake Huron, Lake Simcoe and Georgian Bay differ significantly from those along the north shore of Lake Superior. Each has distinct geology, land use and flood-risk patterns.

“It’s no joke to say that large of a region is roughly the size of Switzerland, with very different conditions and needs,” Scott said. “The costs of integrating governance, technology and operations across such a vast area could easily outweigh any savings, while adding complexity and distance.”

Carl Jorgensen, general manager of Conservation Sudbury, said that in northern Ontario, conservation authorities are far from each other. That makes sharing resources extremely challenging.

“The work we do is very localized,” he said. “The government has provided so little so far on how this is actually going to be implemented; it’s really hard to figure out how these new regional conservation authorities will work.”

“But assuming local offices remain, with staff who can support and perform that frontline work efficiently, there’s no advantage to reducing 36 to seven.”

McCarthy insists that not much will change. “Conservation authorities will continue to deliver the programs and the services that they deliver today,” he said on Oct. 31. 

“Their mandate is not changing. The areas served by conservation authorities are not changing. Their funding is not changing. In fact, they will be better equipped than ever before to meet the changing needs of our communities.”

Conservation authority consolidation threatens their ‘localized approach, localized expertise’

Conservation authorities are governed by provincial law but they are created, funded and managed by municipal governments. Local elected municipal officials sit on the boards to oversee their work and budgets, the majority of which is paid by municipal taxes. Sometimes, municipalities send money to more than one authority because watershed boundaries differ from city or town limits.

“We’re not created equal,” one official from central Ontario told The Narwhal. Larger authorities have more money and more staff. “The system can be kind of dysfunctional and needs a shakeup, but the right kind of shakeup that gives all of us the resources we need to do the important work we do.”

Angela Coleman, executive director of Conservation Ontario, told The Narwhal she’s concerned that consolidation could alter longstanding relationships, something she hopes the advocacy organization can share during the consultation process. 

“One of the main drivers that we’re hearing is that municipalities provide funding through their levies, and because of that, representation and decision-making on conservation authority boards must be carefully structured to reflect those financial contributions,” she said.

There is little in the government’s proposal about what the governing boards of amalgamated conservation authorities would look like. But those doing math in their heads are worried about the creation of extremely large boards made up of twice the number of municipal officials currently appointed. Karen Nesbitt, policy director for the Association of Municipalities Ontario, told The Narwhal this would effectively “weaken local municipal leaders’ voice, leading to a major loss of local control over conservation and environmental protection in communities.” 

In an email to The Narwhal, Nesbitt said there is general support for streamlining and improving services. “However, we are seriously concerned about how this is being carried out,” she said. “The government is making major changes, but it is not providing any new, ongoing provincial funding to run conservation authorities effectively. Worse, this funding gap is being made harder to manage because the province is taking these steps simultaneously.”

Staff also worry about a reduced level of on-the-ground services. “We are the last vestiges of the Ontario Ministry of Environment,” an official from western Ontario said. “We’re the only ones still on the ground, accountable to our communities and serving them with science-based work. After consolidation, I don’t know how we can keep doing that.”

A new provincial agency will centralize decision-making and oversight over conservation authorities

The consolidation will come via the Ontario Provincial Conservation Agency, a new government organization that will “provide centralized leadership, efficient governance, strategic direction and oversight of Ontario’s conservation authorities.”

That includes helping to “streamline and standardize service delivery” and ensure the “consistent application of provincial standards” for flood risk assessment and management. The agency will also help update floodplain mapping and dam infrastructure and develop a “single, digital permitting platform.” 

But while the goals of the agency make sense on paper, conservation authority staff are questioning why consolidation is needed in addition to that. Many already collaborate extensively through shared programs, technical partnerships and joint projects, especially in remote and rural Ontario, where resources are limited. 

“If it were only about efficiency, mandate what hardware and software we should use, give us the money for it, impose certain standards on this and be done with it,” an eastern Ontario authority official said. “But this goes so much further than that. It’s not about efficiency; it’s about removing power from the communities and imposing control from above.” 

“There is no equivalent model in Ontario where people are being told they have to pay for a provincial agency to oversee them,” the official continued. “It’s bizarre … good technology can’t make up for bad governance.” 

Scott agreed. “If governance becomes more centralized under a provincial agency while local boards lose control, we could end up with a system where municipal dollars are being spent under provincial direction without municipal oversight,” he said. “That would be a fundamental change to how Ontario’s watershed management system has operated for nearly eighty years — and not, in my view, a change for the better.”

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The Doug Ford government wants to give itself the power to dictate more of the rules around how Ontario protects its drinking water.

The Ministry of Red Tape Reduction said the process in place to change the rules around drinking water is “overly complex and slow.” It said reforming that process will support housing construction and development, while keeping water safeguards in place.

But one expert said the move will take away power from local committees tasked with protecting their region’s water supply, centralizing it in the hands of the government.

If the government wants to beef up some local water protections, some tweaks to the process could be useful, according to Theresa McClenaghan, executive director of the Canadian Environmental Law Association. But without more details from the government clarifying how it will use its new powers, she added, it could also open the door to weaker public health protections down the road.

That’s a particularly ominous thought for some, coming 25 years after the Walkerton tragedy, which killed seven people and caused 2,300 more to become seriously ill, when the water supply in the town on the east side of Lake Huron became contaminated with E. coli from cattle manure.

Ontario Green Party leader Mike Schreiner said the changes amount to “reducing the power of independent, evidence-based experts and transferring that authority to the minister.”

“It certainly weakens the protections that were put in place out of the lessons learned from Walkerton,” he said in an interview. That includes the need for overlapping layers of protection.

“In the same way that we have a lot of redundancies around air traffic control … if something goes wrong here, you want to make sure there are other checks and balances. Because once you contaminate drinking water, you put people’s lives at risk.”

Red Tape Reduction Minister Andrea Khanjin’s office did not respond to questions from The Narwhal before publication.

Green Party: Walkerton showed the need for multiple levels of Ontario drinking water protection

On Oct. 20, Premier Ford’s Progressive Conservative government introduced Bill 56, the Building a More Competitive Economy Act. Among other things, the bill would change the Clean Water Act, a law put in place following a two-year inquiry into the disaster in Walkerton.

The Walkerton inquiry found the incident could have been prevented if a local official had properly monitored drinking water treatments — and if the Progressive Conservative government of the time, under Mike Harris, had not cut funding to the provincial Environment Ministry.

One solution that came out of the inquiry was to establish a series of regional plans to protect Ontario’s sources of drinking water.

The plans are locally developed and overseen by conservationists, public representatives and others. They identify groundwater and surface water flows around local drinking water supplies, the risks posed by things like industrial pollution or agricultural runoff and what rules should be in place to mitigate those risks.

There are now 19 committees overseeing 38 of these water protection plans across the province. The area each plan oversees is based largely on the conservation authorities in Ontario, along with two others that apply to areas of Georgian Bay and the Bruce Peninsula, and are tailored to the geology and hydrology of each area.

McClenaghan, of the Canadian Environmental Law Association, said the point of this decentralized system is to make sure that each region has practical rules that make sense for them, including for local businesses.

The Building a More Competitive Economy Act would change the law so the government can dictate more of the specific wording around drinking water rules in the protection plans, instead of leaving that to the committees, she said.

For example, the province could mandate standardized wording to ban animal manure from certain zones around water wells, the cause of the Walkerton tragedy, instead of letting the local committee describe that as it chooses, she said.

“Basically, from what I can see, it’s just substituting the current system with a more prescriptive approach,” she said.

“It will remove some flexibility and approach from the committees — and I’ll be quite keen to find out from committees if they think some of their current approaches wouldn’t be permitted.”

The province might also step in to block a water protection committee’s specific approach to dealing with a threat to its local water supply, McClenaghan said. But she added Ontarians won’t know specific details until the government clarifies its role. That won’t happen until the Building a More Competitive Economy Act, which is being debated in the legislature, is passed.

Schreiner said one of the lessons from Walkerton was the need to have a “multi-barrier approach” and the committees were set up “to take the politics out of it.”

Having a multi-step system in place to ensure companies can’t carry out activities with a high risk of contamination, he said, may have prevented the extent of the mercury poisoning that happened in Grassy Narrows First Nation, where drinking water has been contaminated for decades.

In a press release, the government said it wants to change the clean water law because current requirements like consultation periods and ministerial approval can take years for even “routine” projects with pre-defined protections, like replacing an existing well.

It said it would be “simplifying consultation” and “expanding what counts as a minor change” to the water protection plans. This would support “housing and infrastructure development,” the government claimed, while keeping “strong protections for source water in place” as well as “timely, effective safeguards for municipal drinking water sources.”

The changes are “streamlining” so that “unnecessary repetition” is avoided, Environment Minister Todd McCarthy told reporters the day the bill was introduced.

Ford plans to change both Clean Water Act and Safe Drinking Water Act

The government also said there would be upcoming changes to the Safe Drinking Water Act — a separate law that makes sure tap water can be consumed and establishes rules around water treatment — that would let new wells or intakes start supplying water while the protection plans were still being updated.

The Building a More Competitive Economy Act is not the first time the Ford government has enacted laws that may jeopardize the province’s drinking water protections, according to McClenaghan’s organization.

In a blog post from April, the Canadian Environmental Law Association said the two-year-old Helping Homebuyers, Protecting Tenants Act, that allowed municipalities to more easily sprawl, could allow the use of ministerial zoning orders to bypass some drinking water protection rules.

And it said the More Homes Built Faster Act, introduced the year prior under Bill 23, limited the power of conservation authorities to stop developments that could harm water sources.

Ontario’s Auditor General released a report in March which found the Ministry of the Environment, Conservation and Parks doesn’t have the capacity to regularly inspect all 1,816 non-municipal drinking water systems it regulates.

Some communities in Ontario, like Six Nations of the Grand River, still do not have safe drinking water at all.

Meanwhile, the Ford government called on the federal government earlier this year not to entrench the right to clean drinking water in law.

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Like most of us, Leanne Betasamosake Simpson drinks water every day. 

It’s an ordinary act. But the Michi Saagiig Nishnaabeg scholar, writer and artist says it’s also a deep expression of our connection to the natural world.

In recent years, Simpson has come to see her body as a node that “connects, through water, to every other living being and every other group of people on the planet,” she said during an interview with Métis artist Christi Belcourt at the Toronto Reference Library in April, adding that “our women have been walking around lakes and bringing attention to water for years and years and years.” 

The intuition that water is a connective force has grounded Simpson’s recent work, from her 2021 record Theory of Ice, which was shortlisted for the Polaris Music Prize, to her latest book, Theory of Water: Nishnaabe Maps to the Times Ahead. In that book, Simpson listens to and learns from water as she imagines a world beyond the myriad social injustices of our time. She draws on her deep familiarity with Nishnaabe knowledge and lifeways — learned in part through a decades-long apprenticeship with Doug Williams, an Elder from Curve Lake First Nation near Peterborough, Ont. — and brings it to bear on our shared contemporary moment.

Simpson has a PhD in Interdisciplinary Studies from the University of Manitoba, and adds her latest record, Live Like the Sky — released this Friday, Oct. 24 — to a long list of artistic accomplishments.

As Simpson awaited the album’s release, she took a moment to answer The Narwhal’s Moose Questionnaire. Here’s what she had to say about land-based learning, making awe a regular practice and the items in her “emotional support backpack.”

This interview has been edited and condensed for length and clarity. All opinions are the subject’s own.

What’s the most awe-inspiring natural sight you’ve witnessed between the Pacific, Atlantic, 49th parallel and Hudson Bay, i.e. Canada?

This is a dorky answer but the most awe-inspiring natural sight I’ve witnessed is mino bimaadiziwin — the continuous rebirth and reproduction of life on our shared planet. The ecological network that reproduces life. The water cycle. The moon. The spiritual and material strains that connect us. Our only responsibility is to live within that system and bring forth more life. Not just human life, but all life.

For me the trick is to find awe and inspiration in every piece of the natural world and in every Indigenous homeland and body of water, regardless of how much harm they carry from extraction, neglect and exploitation.

Also monarch butterflies. The whole “being soup in a tiny sleeping bag hanging on a milkweed plant to rebuild yourself into the most fragile weird flying saucer thing that travels en masse to Mexico, and knows how to wing your way across Lake Ontario as a warm-up.” Like come on, do that humans.

Also I was at the Mnoominkewin Festival at Curve Lake First Nation in September celebrating wild rice. I was down on the shore of Chemong Lake and a large group of participants were in canoes planting seeds in a growing rice bed. That was a tremendous thing to witness. The wild rice on that lake used to be so thick the lake looked like a prairie. That was all destroyed by the Trent Severn Waterway, cottage development and pesticides, so to see this resurgence of a cherished Nishnaabeg way of caring for our community was pretty wonderful.

What’s the most awe-inspiring natural sight you’ve witnessed outside of Canada?

The Sakiya project is a land-based education project in the West Bank in Palestine, whose vision is: “Liberation through a society whose confidence is rooted in traditional and contemporary ecological practices, whose tolerance echoes nature’s diversity, whose generosity springs from collective labour, whose creativity is enriched by the intersections between art, science and agriculture and whose prosperity is shared beyond boundaries.” 

I visited the centre during the Palestine Festival of Literature in 2023 and really loved to see all the ways they were deepening their connection to their homeland, to cultural production and creative practice and to sharing that knowledge.

Think of three iconic Canadian animals. Choose one each to kiss, marry and kill. 

I’d put tobacco down and ask a moose to give up its life for me, so that I could share the meat, bones, hide and nose with people in our communities. One moose can nourish a lot of people.

I’d live in sin with a beaver. Their orange chisel-like incisors! Their nictitating membrane! Nishnaabeg people have a story of someone who married a beaver and we gained a tremendous insight into how to live with beavers as a result. 

I’d kiss a lynx, entirely because I think the shyness and reluctance on both of our parts would make consent and the actual kiss next to impossible to pull off.

Outdoor cats: yes or no?

All the power to lynxes, bobcats, mountain lions and cougars.

Name one person who could significantly help mitigate the climate crisis if they really wanted to.

All the fascists, elected officials, genocide deniers, billionaires and tech bros. 

And all of us. If each one of us found three people and organized to make something in our local communities better, we would be making a different future.

Rocky Mountains or Great Lakes?

The Great Lakes made me.

Researchers at Yale University, the France-based Women’s Forum for the Economy and Society and other institutions have found women tend to be more concerned about climate change than men. Why do you think that is?

This is another dorky answer. I turned off the robots and looked up the actual study, and read it because I highly recommend critical thought. This study is dated. It focused on men and women in the United States. It conforms to a colonial gender binary and erases queer and gender fluid identities. It seems to not account for other factors like race, education level and socio-economic factors. 

The study does clock a change in 2010. Apparently, prior to 2010, men and women had a similar knowledge of climate change and then it shifted, and the study suggests women in the U.S. are less likely than men to know certain scientific facts about climate change. This is another red flag to me because it’s conforming to the Barbie-is-bad-at-math kind of misogyny. We also know that in our present moment, climate deniers, genocide deniers, science deniers, MAGA people and the right target and recruit young white men and that they were successful in getting Trump elected. That’s the issue we should be studying and organizing against. 

In Indigenous communities all genders are concerned about climate change because our ancestors saw it was going to be a huge problem once settlers set foot on Turtle Island, disregarded our sovereignties, laws and ethical practices and imposed colonialism and capitalism on us. 

Sorry, I went all professor there.

If you could dip a toe off Canada’s coastline, which ocean would it be in?

I’m wishing for the empty Pacific.

What’s a beautiful or useful thing you’ve owned for a really long time?

I’m on the road a lot and so my backpack is actually an emotional support backpack, jammed with everything from portable chargers to nail clippers to tea bags to a portable espresso maker. One time my emotional support backpack broke in the Vancouver airport and the 4,000 items in it were spilling out as I was running for a connecting flight. I ended up having to buy a large tote bag which my kids call “the millennial mom bag,” even though it’s pretty obvious from this answer I’m generation X.

What’s the farthest north you’ve ever been and what did you do there?

I spent a lot of time in the North teaching in Denendeh, Kaska Dena territory and Inuvik, which is part of Gwichi’in and Inuvialuit homelands, for the Dechinta Centre of Research and Learning, which is based in Yellowknife. It’s an Indigenous-led, land-based post-secondary education program. We take Elders, students and their children out on the land to learn from and with the land in a multi-generational Indigenous context.

The students spend part of the day learning from Elders and part of the day learning from people like me, and they can earn Indigenous Studies credits from the University of British Columbia. We provide childcare, meals, accommodation and all kinds of academic and wellness support to ensure that we are channelling resources into northern Indigenous communities and to make sure our programming is meaningful to people of all genders and sexual orientations. 

I’ve also done writing workshops in Sapmi (northern Finland, Sweden and Norway). I think the farthest north I’ve been is Tuktoyaktuk in Inuvialuit territory but it might be Igloolik in Nunavut. This year I helped teach hide-tanning courses in Inuvik with Montana and Delaney Prynuk. It was pretty amazing tanning hides near the former sites of residential schools.

What’s one way you interact with the natural world on a daily basis?

I drink water. Every day.

Yes, you have to choose: smoked salmon or maple syrup?

Maple smoked salmon.

Would you rather be invited to visit David and Victoria Beckham at their Muskoka, Ont., cottage, or Harry and Meghan Sussex at their B.C. oceanic escape?

No.

Camping: yes or no?

Yes.

Enjoying the Moose Questionnaire? Read more from the series here.

The Narwhal’s reporters are telling environment stories you won’t read about anywhere else. Stay in the loop by signing up for our free weekly dose of independent journalism.